


Flower Theft

by whomstdvelyyaintntediessyes



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: M/M, but before the story started, so do i need to tag it?, éponine is dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-15 17:33:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18503752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whomstdvelyyaintntediessyes/pseuds/whomstdvelyyaintntediessyes
Summary: PROMPT: Sometimes I steal flowers from your garden on my way to the cemetery. But today you’ve caught me and have demanded to come with me to make sure the “girl is pretty enough to warrant flower theft” and I’m trying to figure out how to break it to you that we’re on our way to the graveyard.





	Flower Theft

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work. :))

He knew that stealing was wrong, but over the weeks it had become a habit.

Courfeyrac snapped the stem of yet another flower from this random stranger’s garden.

“Whoever lives here has way too many flowers anyway.” He tried to reassure himself as he stepped back, looking at the excessive amount of plants, some even hanging over the white painted fence.

“Meh.” 

Courfeyrac skipped away from the house clutching his orchid and enjoying the way his overly full school bag thumped him on the back. He had just started year 9 at Lyneham and was new in the area, but the dirt path he was travelling on had become very familiar in the past months. 

School was great for him. He had a lot of friends and he was in band and in the special academic program where he would be classmates with his friends until the end of year 10. Most of his classmates had gotten into the smart people program in year 7 but a lot of people such as him, Feuilly and Marius had come in later years. When he first arrived at school he only recognised one person: Grantaire. But he soon became part of a sort of cult. They called themselves the  _ Les Amis de l’ABC _ because France. They did protests and rallies and had in school meetings where their group leader - Enjolras - ranted about global issues and Musichetta - Joly and Bossuet’s girlfriend - would make them chai tea and hot chocolate and stuff.

Courfeyrac and Grantaire’s best friend Éponine would’ve been in their class too but … stuff … happened …

 

“Eyy Courf!” A familiar voice called out.

“Hai ‘Taire.” Courfeyrac responded, brandishing his flower at his friend.

Grantaire took a look at the orchid and shook his head, “Bro, you have got to stop stealing that person’s flowers! Like, it looks like they take their flowers seriously and if they caught you they would probably hunt you down and kill you using that torture method where you make plants grow through a person's body. I mean, what if they’re someone from school?! You’d be totally fucked.”

“Honestly,” Courfeyrac responded, picking a leaf from a tree with his free hand, “it’s probably some grandmother with too much time on her hands that lives there.”

“So… Ms Howard?? You’d be totally definitely, fucked then.”

They both laughed at the thought of their terrible substitute. However their laughter ceased a bit when they reached their destination.

 

“Éponine would’ve loved that.” Grantaire continued as they strolled through the rows of tombstones. “Even ‘Ferre was playing video games. You have photos don’t you?”

“Yes.” Courfeyrac replied, brushing his hand across a headstone. “I uploaded them onto the graduation slideshow too.”

“Mhmm.”

The pair stopped at one particular tombstone. The surface had been used as a picnic table by their friends many times because Éponine always liked reading those Facebook stories about the couple who put a sandpit in their son’s grave so that his brother could still play with him. So they let her still be part of the parties and get togethers they had. Every Tuesday, before the ABC meetings, they would give her flowers and sketches, read her poems and funny Pinterest stories. They would sometimes bring food and have picnics.

Just the three of them.

 

~~~

 

Another Tuesday had came and Courfeyrac was going to visit Éponine again. Today Grantaire had a STEM enrichment program exhibition. He had been worried about it all week and was especially nervous today but Courf and Éponine knew he would be great.

Courf caught sight of the familiar white painted fence and reached out to pick a daisy like he had been doing for weeks, but this time, a hand grabbed his arm.

“Uhm… I-i just… I umm… je-Jehan?”

“Courf?”

“Um… uh what brings you out, out here in this fine after-afternoon?”

“Oh… I umm was just trying to find out who kept picking my flowers. I put a lot of effort into growing these and this idiot just keeps stealing them!”

“Aha… well…” Courfeyrac nervously scratched the back of his neck. “Um hypothetically, what would happen if, I dunno, I said that  _ I  _ were said flower theif?”

“GODDAMMIT COURF!!”

“I’m sorry ididntknow that this was your houseand I-“

“Who’s the girl?”

“I’m sorry what?!”

“Well your girlfriend better be pretty enough to warrant flower theft.”

“Uhmm… she is fairly attractive…”

“Great. I’ll come with you to see if she is worthy of my flowers.” Jehan grabbed Courfeyrac’s arm again and started dragging him down the dirt path.

“Hold up a second-“ Courfeyrac stumbles to a stop infront of Jehan who had crossed his arms in a frustrated - and sort of cute in Courfeyrac’s opinion - gesture. “Do you even know where you’re going?”

“Nope. But you do. So lead the way.” Jehan made a gesture for Courfeyrac to continue and he nervously obliged.

He was normally more chill than this but what could you do when the love of your life is standing right next to you hOLDING YOUR HAND!! And also accusing you of flower theft and demanding they see if your girl is pretty enough for their flowers. 

_ Oh man. How am I gonna tell him that we’re on our way to a cemetery?? _

 

Jehan couldn’t believe that tHEY WERE STANDING RIGHT NEXT TO THEIR CRUSH AND HOLDING THEIR HAND!!!!! And that thEIR CRUSH IS THE ONE THAT HAD BEEN STEALING THEIR FLOWERS! FOr a gIRL! At least he was holding Courfeyrac’s hand though, right?

He heaved a deep sigh. 

_ This girl better be beautiful. _

 

Nonetheless, Jehan was standing right next to him being perfect ‘and stupidly adorable’ Courf thought to himself - as always. 

‘Gosh. Jehan’s smile is so cute!!’ Courfeyrac sighed quietly and looked over at Jehan who was looking down at his feet. Combeferre said that insecure people had the tendency to look down to avoid eye contact or something. But why would Jehan of all people be insecure? Maybe because society is stuffed up and puts feminine and masculine labels on things that really don’t need to be labeled, like colours and flowers and poetry…

Jehan must’ve been bullied for pursuing his passions and doing the things that he enjoyed. Nevertheless, he smiled. 

How was he gonna tell Jehan that they were going to a cemetery?

Courfeyrac sighed more audibly this time alerting Jehan.

“Hmm?” Jehan looked up innocently, his hair falling infront of his face. Courfeyrac stared at him. He wanted nothing more than to brush the hair behind Jehan’s ear with his thumb and caress his face. 

“Umm- whaT? Nothing… I just, uh, we’re nearly here.”

“Oh. Good.” Jehan smiled. Anyone from a mile away could’ve told that it was forced but Courfeyrac was too busy looking at the ground trying to hide his red face to notice.

 

~~~

 

“Tadaa~ We’re here…” Courfeyrac stopped them at the large arch, intertwined with flowers and vines that he passed under every Tuesday. 

Jehan looked up at it and then at the tombstones and into the distance.

“Um… Not to judge you or anything, but this is a… um… unique meeting, ah, place.”

“Y-yeah… She- WE’re very unique people.”

“I got that alright. WAITWAITWAIT! NOtinabadway I mean, I just, yOU’re a veryspecialanduniquesortofperson and I-”

“Haha. No worries man, let’s just meet, ahem, let’s just go and…”

_ Oh my gosh.  _ Jehan thought.  _ Did I just call the love of my life, a weird person. SHit. I so totally fucked up. I will never have a chance with him. He already has a girlfriend anyway... _

_ Did Jehan just call me weird and a special person at the same time? Nah. I bet he added that last bit so that he wouldn’t appear rude. _

 

They walked a while and Courfeyrac was fidgeting with the daisy that he had resorted to tucking it behind his ear like Jehan always did with the countless flowers he brought to school. Jehan had also been restless and had taken to fidgeting with the sleeve of his sweater. A long, pastel coloured thread was now hanging from his wrist but he needed SOMETHING to distract him from Courfeyrac’s overwhelming cuteness.

After a while of walking in silence - the tension in the air so thicc that you could cut it with a knife - they had arrived at their destination.

“Well here she is.” 

Jehan was silent. For once, the poet with so much to say was at a loss for words.

“We’re not really in a romantic relationship, we’re more really close friends. ‘Taire, her and I, we’re the 3 amigos - inseparable.” At this point Courfeyrac was rambling. Blissfully unaware that Jehan had once again grasped his hand. “We went to primary school together and we got into so much trouble. We took photos of each other during class I can show you later, if you want…” He went on about the adventures the 3 of them had together, all the way up until that one day when Éponine just couldn’t take anymore. At some point the tears had started falling, the tears turned to whimpers, then sobs and soon enough he was crying so much that Jehan could barely understand anything he was saying. All he did understand was that they had been and they would always be the best of friends.

He embraced Courfeyrac and all of a sudden the indecipherable words combined with sobs stopped.

“What was her name?”

“Her name was- her name is Éponine.”

“I take it she’s very special to you.”

Courfeyrac could only nod for fear of the unstoppable tears starting again if he were to open his mouth.

Jehan took the flower and tucked it behind Courfeyrac’s ear, letting his hand linger on his jaw for a few seconds. Then Jehan did something that they both had dreamt about for ages. He closed the gap between them. It was soft and chaste and meant the world to both of them.

Courfeyrac started crying again and they sat down in front of Éponine’s tombstone. Jehan kept him in a tight embrace and whispered softly in his ear. At some point it had gotten dark and they decided to head home, but not before Jehan laid down a couple rose cuttings that he had in his pocket from before his adventure with Courfeyrac.

 

~~~

 

“So… Are we, like, a thing now??” Courfeyrac asked as they walked back to his house.

Jehan’s cheeks felt hot and he looked down bashfully. “Umm… I dunno? If you want to, I guess? I wouldn’t mind if you don’t but if you do actually want to that would be - ahem - that would be great, I guess.”

Courfeyrac responded by taking Jehan’s hand in his and kissing him again.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Jehan breathed out when they finally pulled away from each other.

Courfeyrac laughed and looped their arms together, skipping along the dirt road.

**Author's Note:**

> ya yEEt


End file.
